


From Me to You

by Swanny_Writer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Confessions, Fast-ish burn, Fish is Wonwoo's downfall and savior, Fluff, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped, Kwon Hoshi is the best wingman, M/M, Misunderstandings, Wen Junhui is a Sweetheart, and whipped, one paragraph of angst to counter the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Writer
Summary: Jun receives a note from JWW asking him to Homecoming, so he accepts. The problem is Wonwoo never sent any note, nor does he plan on going to the dance.(Or the one with the love letter and the misunderstanding.)





	From Me to You

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooooo! 
> 
> Seems like we could use a change of pace, so here's a short fic of high school fluff and (hopefully) humor. 
> 
> Enjoy! (✿◠‿◠)
> 
> -

 

 

It’s a wonder what staying in class three minutes after the bell does to the foot traffic in the hallways. With the speed at which his peers disperse once the school day ends, their track and field teams should place number one at all meets. Wonwoo’s just glad he doesn’t have to worry about his toes getting crushed or getting elbowed in the ribs by backpacks. The halls are pretty much deserted now, save for the occasional students going to their extracurricular activities and whatnot.

He walks slowly to his locker, eyes skimming along the loud and vibrant posters plastered on the walls. He overlooks the ones announcing the date and theme for Homecoming, completely ignoring the pep rallies, but he does make a mental note of the dance competition. No doubt their entire group would go to cheer on Soonyoung and his team. Even if it happens to fall on the day before his history test.

Mildly distracted by his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice the figure leaning on the row of lockers until he’s a few feet away. Wonwoo blinks a couple times, but the boy remains where he is, head bowed to stare intently at his shoes. He hasn’t noticed Wonwoo yet, and the latter is left to ponder who or what he’s waiting for. It can’t be him, right? He and Wonwoo didn’t really know each other.

Or, well, that’s not exactly, true, he amends.

Wonwoo knows of Wen Junhui, since they’re both third years, and have a few mutual friends. They’ve exchanged greetings and very short conversations, but never actually spent much time together. Junhui’s more of Soonyoung’s and Hansol’s friend. Maybe he’s looking for one of them?

A little unsure, he approaches and clears his throat. “Hey, Junhui.”

The boy startles slightly, and Wonwoo is about to apologize when Junhui flashes him a smile. _Wow_. His stomach swoops, and he instinctively sets a hand over his tummy. He’s pretty sure Junhui’s never looked at him with such sparkly eyes or bright smile.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” he says, excitement and maybe a drop of nervousness evident in his cheerful voice. “How are you?”

 _A little confused, but otherwise—_ “I’m good,” he answers, reaching for the lock to put in his combination. “What’s up?” Swinging the door open, he glances over to see Junhui fidget with a folded piece of paper, a pretty blush settling across is cheeks.

“Um, well, I just… Um,” Junhui stammers, a chuckle escaping as he rubs the back of his neck. The nervousness is blatantly evident now, if not for the chuckle, then the grin tugging the corners of his full lips.

Wonwoo forces his gaze away, not waning to come across as a creepy pervert, occupying himself instead with exchanging his math textbook for his biology lab manual. He looks back up when Junhui starts speaking again, seemingly having found his confidence.

“I got your note,” he says, waving the piece of paper he’d been toying with earlier. Wonwoo’s brows furrow, mouth slipping open to tell him he didn’t send any note. Except he never gets to, because Junhui continues in the same breath, smile shaky, “And I’d love to go to the dance with you.”

_Huh?_

_What?_

_Dance? What dance? HOMECOMING?_

Wonwoo stares back, doing his damnedest to keep his expression neutral. He may have no idea what’s happening, and Junhui’s not exactly his friend, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be an ass about it. Especially when Junhui looks about two seconds away from running off in embarrassment.

Still, _what?_ Obviously, there’s a misunderstanding somewhere, because Wonwoo sure as hell didn’t ask anyone to Homecoming.

“Uh, that’s…” _Okay, just stay calm and explain_.

Junhui blinks, pretty doe eyes expectant, blushing harder now, and Wonwoo just can’t seem to find his faculty to speak in complete sentences. How can someone who looks as harmless as a kitten affect him so much?

“Jun!”

The two snap out of the weird staring contest to look behind Junhui’s shoulder. Chan is waving at him, then at Wonwoo when he notices the other upperclassman. Wonwoo offers a nod, silently sighing in relief.

“Aren’t you going to practice?” Chan asks, thumb jerking behind him toward the arts department.

“I’m coming. Hold on,” Junhui confirms. He turns back to Wonwoo and smiles sheepishly. “I gotta go. Um, Hoshi has my number i-if you want it.” Cheeks still as red, he waves, tiny fingers peeking out of the sweater paws. “See you later!” Then he runs off after Chan, leaving Wonwoo standing in the empty hallway feeling utterly confused and agitated.

 

**Jeon Wonwoo**

S.O.S.

**Kwon Hoshi**

what’s wrong?

did you get stuck under a book avalanche?

ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ

 

**Jeon Wonwoo**

(¬_¬)

no

its about junhui

 

 

**Kwon Hoshi**

IS JUN OK?!

IS HE STUKC UNDER A PILE OF BOOKS?!

oh wait no. he just came in with DN

lookin WAY too happy for smone who’s just escaped death

 

 

**Jeon Wonwoo**

can you slip out for 5 min?

 

**Kwon Hoshi**

yeah sure

 

 

Soonyoung meets him outside of the dance studio, and Wonwoo hitches the strap of his backpack higher, preparing himself to retell the very odd encounter. By the time he’s done, Soonyoung looks rather unimpressed, shoving his hands into his back pockets.

“Okay? I don’t see the problem.”

Wonwoo gapes at him, flabbergasted. “What do you mean you don’t see a problem? He agreed to go to Homecoming with the wrong person! Moreover, I don’t want to go to the stupid dance.”

“First of all, it is not stupid,” Soonyoung states in a very uncharacteristically serious tone, for such a topic anyway. “I’m running for Homecoming Prince, and I have it on good authority that I’m in the lead.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Secondly, who cares about the other kid? Jun probably wouldn’t have agreed anyway.”

“How would you know?”

Throwing an arm around his neck, he gives Wonwoo a look. “Trust me, man. I _know_. So just take him to the dance. You’ll both have a great time, I guarantee it.”

“But I…” He sighs, giving the dancer a look. “It feels like a lie, like I’m some sort of imposter. Plus, Junhui and I don’t even know each other that well. Can’t you just… tell him it’s a mistake?”

Soonyoung frowns, eyes narrowing even more. To the point where Wonwoo wonders if he even sees anything. “Are you trying to imply there’s something wrong with him?”

“What!” he balks. “No! I just don’t want to hurt him or make him feel awkward and uncomfortable.”

“Oh.”

That seems to appease the wild hamster as he settles down. Wonwoo's always sort of surmised that Soonyoung was protective of his friends, but he seems extra protective when it came to Junhui.

“Alright, listen. Despite the way he looks when we perform, Jun is really a sweet and shy kid. The fact that he even gathered enough courage to accept and talk to you is a huge deal. He must _really_ want to go to Homecoming with you.”

For whatever reason, hearing that caused a wave of pleasant flutters to overtake his stomach. Wonwoo tries not to linger on the reason why. He also (unsuccessfully) pulls his thoughts away from how Junhui had smiled at him with flushed cheeks and shiny eyes, so happy and excited.

“Practice’s gonna start soon,” Soonyoung declares, snapping him out of his ~~daydream~~ musings. “I’ll text you his number. Talk to him, get to know him, and if it still bothers you that much, then you should tell him yourself.”

That doesn’t sound too bad. Sure, he can talk to Junhui. They can be friends. Friends can take each other to dances, right? Even if he’s pretty certain that as a friend, he’s not supposed to be wondering if Junhui’s lips are as soft and tasty as they look.

“Okay.”

 

~✉~✉~✉~

 

Wonwoo doesn’t believe in fast and easy friendships. Those don’t usually last, in his humble experience. He reserved those for summer camps and classmates, the sort of people you only get along with due to proximity and a common setting. Without the awful lunch menu or weird teacher or gross couple making out in the corner to gossip over, you’d be left sitting in awkward silence.

He believes that good relationships, whether romantic or platonic, need time to mature and develop. Challenges that test the bond and give you an idea if the person is going to stick around. He thought he had a pretty good handle on knowing how to differentiate between temporary and permanent relationships.

Turns out, he knows nothing.

Not when it comes to Wen Junhui at the very least. Because the moment he let the ball of fluff into his life, none of his rules and guidelines seem to apply any longer. Junhui made forming bonds effortless, as simple as breathing, and for a few days, Wonwoo had been left dumbfounded. It’d felt as if they’d simply skip over the stilted first stage and jumped right into the comfortability of year-long friends.

Now Wonwoo expects morning and night texts, along with the random conversations they have in the middle of the day, since they don’t have any classes together. Junhui sits at their table at lunch now, instead of keeping to the opposite side of the cafeteria with the rest of the dance crew (which made Mingyu very happy because now the second year didn’t have to find excuses to come by and talk to Minghao).

While he has fun and enjoys his conversations with Junhui, what he looks most forward to are the pictures of various cats Junhui comes across. More often than not, the dancer would accompany the photos with a funny comment, which never fails to make Wonwoo chuckle.

And then there’s the selfie.

From time to time, Junhui will find a house cat who’s friendly enough to approach strangers and let him pet it. Wonwoo’s received quite a collection of cat selfies, which he’s quickly and secretly saved. It’s not his fault he’s weak in the presence of such beauty and adorableness. Something Soonyoung does his best to remind him.

“Stop taking pictures of me!” Wonwoo reaches over to swipe the device out of his friend’s grasp, but Soonyoung dodges the attempt, cackling maniacally.

“I can’t. Not when you look this lovesick.”

Wonwoo lunges out of his desk, but Soonyoung tosses the phone to Jihoon.

“Delete it.”

“I don’t think so,” the musician snickers as he taps at the screen in rapid succession. “I’m sure Junnie would love to know you appreciate his selfies.”

Wonwoo’s blood runs cold. “Jihoon, I swear if you—”

His threat is rudely interrupted by Soonyoung’s notification. Jihoon taps a couple times, a soft look crossing his face, taking Wonwoo completely by surprise. Only for it to morph into fondness when Jihoon turns the screen over for him to see.

Junhui’s replied with another selfie, one hand covering half of his face in embarrassment. The blush tainting his cheeks is apparent, though, along with the sheepish smile on those pink lips.

The tender moment is unfortunately broken by Soonyoung’s shrill cackles as he swoops in to retrieve his phone. “Aww, you guys are so cute! I can’t wait to see you making heart eyes at each other at the dance.”

Wonwoo throws a pen at his head, and Jihoon bursts into laughter at Soonyoung’s affronted look.

 

~✉~✉~✉~

 

Just when things were going a little too well, Wonwoo gets sick. It’s just a cold, but his mom fusses over him and forces him to stay home. He would complain about his perfect attendance record, but considering he almost face-planted in the bathroom, he keeps his mouth shut and swallows the pills as directed. He spends the whole day in bed sleeping, alternating between kicking off his blankets and scrambling to pile on more.

At some point—apparently being sick takes away his ability to tell time—he’s woken up by the doorbell. He groans, throat sore and head heavy. He tries to go back to sleep, but gets distracted by the sounds from downstairs. His brother is letting whoever’s arrived enter, and they talk for a bit. Their voices are muffed by the layers of walls, so Wonwoo can’t tell their identity nor what they want. A few seconds later, there’s a quiet knock at his door.

He pulls the covers away enough to peek and see a familiar face poke his head of fluffy brown hair through the gap. Seemingly not aware that Wonwoo’s awake, Junhui tiptoes toward his desk, hands steadying the plastic bag he’s carrying. For a second, Wonwoo wonders if Junhui is going to shush the bag for being noisy. He doesn’t, but he does remove a small container of soup from it, along with a spoon. Wonwoo’s stomach fills with butterflies, touched that not only Junhui came to visit, he’d brought him food, too.

Junhui lingers, eyes skimming over the covers as if assessing if they were enough. Satisfied, he smiles, although it’s subdued.

“Get well soon, Wonwon,” he whispers, slowly turning around to head for the door.

Wonwoo panics. “Junnie, wait!” He barely gets the chance to see the boy jump, because a coughing fit threatens to choke him to death.

One moment he’s wheezing, the next there’s a gentle hand on his back and a glass of water in front of his nose. He gulps the entire thing down, sighing in relief when Junhui puts the empty glass by his desk and levels him a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Should I go get your mom?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, hand wiggling out to grab Junhui’s wrist. “I’m fine. Stay, please.”

The furrow between his brows has yet to smooth out, and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, but Junhui eventually relents. Gingerly, as if afraid of troubling Wonwoo, he sits on the edge of the bed. Wonwoo falls back against his pillow.

“Are you hungry? I brought you some soup,” he says, gesturing to the desk. “Your mom said you should eat if you’re awake.”

Maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the cold medicine. Or maybe it’s just his inner desires poking through in his moment of weakness. Whatever the cause, Wonwoo finds himself asking, “Will you feed me?”

Junhui chokes on air, and this time, it’s Wonwoo rubbing his back. “S-sorry, that was just a little unexpected.”

“Is that a no?”

“No?” he squeaks, and Wonwoo grins lazily.

In the end, Wonwoo decides to just eat the (delicious) soup on his own. Mostly because the belated embarrassment finally reaches him, and he’d rather not die from it. The two chat as he eats, mostly Junhui catching him up on things since he slept through their daily texting ritual. Wonwoo doesn’t say much, only having enough energy and brain capacity to comment here and there, but Junhui seems happy all the same.

By the time he gets to the last spoonfuls, Junhui’s telling him all about the troubles and surprises in the kitchen he’s encountered the first time he’s ever made soup. Wonwoo sort of checks out. Not because he’s bored, on the contrary. He’s very invested in listening to him, but he’s even more enthralled by the soft cadence of his voice. Without needing a mirror, he’s pretty sure he’s sitting against the headboard and staring at Junhui with a dumb smile on his face, and he’s so glad Soonyoung isn’t here to capture the moment on a memory card.

Junhui’s so cute. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty nose, pretty lips. In short, Junhui is just pretty all over. And sweet, so unlike the lemons he enjoys eating whole all the time. More like the jellies he stashes on his person at all times. How does a person look so soft? Maybe he really is a kitten.

“Huh?” the object of his current fascination blinks, a mix of confusion and elation crosses his expression as he tries not to laugh.

And it’s during that brief moment of clarity that Wonwoo realizes he’s said all of it out loud. Cold sweat breaks out all over his body. Soonyoung isn’t here to witness his floundering, but Junhui sure is, and that is indefinitely worse.

_Well, fuck._

The giggles win out as Junhui pokes his thigh and takes the empty bowl away. “I think the cold medicine is starting to kick in, huh? You sound all loopy.”

When did he take cold medicine? Damn, he’s out of it.

“Uh, right,” he mumbles, cheeks heating up in a completely unrelated reason to his cold. He averts direct eye contact as Junhui hands him another glass of water. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” his temporary nurse grins and pats the bed to gesture for him to lay back down. Gently, he pulls the covers up to Wonwoo’s chin and brushes the black bangs out of his eyes. “I’m going to head out so you can get some rest.”

He says it tenderly, but Wonwoo is having none of it. He wiggles around until he can grip Junhui’s wrist through the blanket. “I’ve been resting on all.” And he knows he sounds petulant, which might be why Junhui giggles again.

“Fine, I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

Well, to be honest, he wants him to stay longer, but he’s not going to be greedy. Besides, he doesn’t like the thought of Junhui walking home alone when it’s dark. So he nods and settles more comfortably, while Junhui talks to him, smiling fondly when the boy gets too excited over one thing or another. At one point, the pleasant cadence of his voice turns melodious. The song is beautiful. Junhui’s singing is beautiful, a cooling balm that soothes Wonwoo's aching body.

Gradually, as sleep overtakes him, his hold on reality and Junhui slips away. But his voice, so airy and silky, lull him to dreamland.

 

~✉~✉~✉~

 

“Hoshi, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Frustrated, Wonwoo yanks on the ends of the tie around his neck and turns to glare at his phone as if it were the representation of his friend.

It’s Homecoming night, and he’s been trying to get ready before Junhui arrives, but halfway through, Soonyoung had called to give him a heads-up about the event. The entire situation was ridiculous, and he’s reminded yet again why he generally avoids school socials.

“Sorry, man. That’s what the committee came up with,” Soonyoung replies. From the shuffling and chatter going on, the dancer’s probably already at school.

“What about people who are allergic to seafood? Have they thought about that?” Wonwoo isn’t allergic, but the same principle applies.

The committee had promised a lavish menu, with all sorts of delicious foods and desserts. All the funds of the food sold will be collected to use for next year’s dance. Wonwoo was looking forward to that, saving himself the hassle of making reservations and dealing with snooty restaurant receptionists. Plus, he didn’t want his and Junhui’s first dinner date to be at some place where they couldn’t unwind and enjoy themselves.

Which brings him back to his current predicament.

Since they had planned on eating at school, he couldn’t take Junhui out for food now, or they’ll be late. Which means he’ll either starve the whole night, or have one hell of an awkward dinner by trying to keep the sushi and sashimi in his stomach and not throw it back up. Or even worse, Junhui will realize what’s happening and insist on also not eating as a sign of solidarity.

_Great. Just wonderful._

“Well,” Soonyoung answers, “Hansol’s allergic to peanuts, yet bravely faces the PB&J sandwiches in the cafeteria.”

Wonwoo makes a face even if he knows Soonyoung can’t see him. “What about alternatives for vegetarians?”

“Er… There’s a salad bar?”

He rolls his eyes and paces back to the mirror, attempting once more not to strangle himself with the necktie. “Fucking Homecoming,” he mutters, jerking the silk a little too forcefully. “I should just call Jun and cancel the entire thing.”

It’s supposed to rain later on, so their options are a little limited, but if Junhui’s willing, they could go to the arcade or something, and stop by the hotpot place Junhui likes beforehand. It’ll be fun and relaxing, just the two of them. No obnoxious teenagers, no popularity contest, and especially no fish. The idea sounds better and better the more he thinks about it.

“You can’t!” Soonyoung shrieks loud enough to make Wonwoo’s ears buzz, even from across the room. “You promised you’d take him!”

Frowning, he finally tightens the knot at his throat. “Uh, no. I promised no such thing. Technically, that other dude wanted to take him to the stupid dance. I just got caught in the middle, and now I’m gonna have to endure an entire evening with people I could care less about, instead of spending time alone with—”

A creak in the floorboards causes him to stop in the middle of his rant to turn toward the door. Wonwoo freezes, heart squeezing tight, and all the blood drains from his face.

Junhui’s standing in the open doorway, doe eyes wide as he stares at the other boy in shock. The daze flashes quickly to a look of realization and… hurt.

Wonwoo can’t breathe.

A sharp pang punches him in the gut when Junhui schools his expression into a tight smile.

“Um, y-your parents let me in before they left,” he says, voice small and strained. “I’m sorry, I should have waited downstairs.”

Before Wonwoo can kick his brain into gear, Junhui offers him another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and turns on his heels. Wonwoo is left staring at the empty space where his date had just stood mere seconds ago, mental capacity too slow to compute what his eyes are seeing.

“JEON FUCKING WONWOO!”

He jumps at the scream coming from his phone. It’s not Soonyoung.

“God damn it, you moronic walnut!” Jihoon is screaming at him. “What’s the point of a perfect GPA if you can’t use any of that knowledge when it counts? Snap out of it and _fix this_. That oblivious fool probably thinks you hate him now. If he shows up here alone and in tears, I will beat you with your own damn guitar.”

Faintly, he hears Soonyoung agreeing with vigor. Some best friends. But then again, he gets it. Actually, he really wants to kick himself right now too.

“I’ll call you back,” is all he says as he grabs his phone and dashes downstairs.

The house is empty. Earlier, he’d been more than happy that his family would be gone to Bohyuk's recital, so they couldn’t embarrass him when Junhui got here. But now he really wished they’d stuck around a little longer if only to keep Junhui from running out on him.

Heart pounding to pump the panic and regret through his bloodstreams, he crashes through the front door and takes off down the street. Junhui doesn’t drive, which means he couldn’t have gone very far. Wonwoo maintains a jogging pace as he scans the corners and shortcuts he knows Junhui frequents from the many cat pictures he’s sent.

After a few minutes, he spots a lone figure walking with his shoulders slumped. A tiny breath of relief escapes into the crisp air as Wonwoo picks up speed and runs over.

“Jun!” He grabs his arm and turns him around, wanting to avoid the other running away again.

Junhui startles from the suddenness, letting out a squeak of surprise. Wonwoo would coo at how adorable the sight is if he didn’t get the breath knocked out of him from seeing the red rims surrounding the usually sparkling eyes, now shiny with unshed tears. The tip of his nose is pink.

As if in realization of the reason behind Wonwoo’s sharp gasp, Junhui dips his head and rubs at his eyes with his free hand.

A wet and nervous chuckle spills from his lips. “It’s really windy today. I got so much dust flying into my eyes.”

Wonwoo feels numb as he silently reaches into the pocket of his pants and takes out a packet of tissues. He knows it’d probably be best if he pulls one out, but he’s not willing to let go of Junhui’s wrist.

“Thanks,” Junhui mumbles, rubbing at his eyes, face still averted. “Um.” He clears his throat. “Sorry for running out on you like that. I’m fine, you didn’t need to come check on me.”

That same sharp pain squeezes around his heart again. “Junnie—”

“I’ll pay you back the money for the tickets,” Junhui interrupts. “I left the boutonnieres on your kitchen counter, but you can just throw them away—”

“Junnie, look at me.”

“I am,” he insists, voice small, focus intent on the other’s shoes.

With a sigh, Wonwoo cradles the side of his face with his free hand and lifts it up until their gazes meet. He’s glad to note there’s no tear streaks to mar his pretty face, but to see how red and puffy his eyes are—to know he’s the cause—breaks his heart.

“I don’t care about the stupid tickets,” he says gently, thumb stroking his cheek. “And I’m not going to throw those flowers away, because you picked them, and everything about you is pretty, right?” He holds his breath and waits for it.

When he’s rewarded with a tiny smile and barely audible giggle, he breathes out.

“I’m sorry I never told you the truth,” he starts. “At first it was because you seemed so excited about it that I didn’t want to become the bearer of bad news. Plus, I didn’t want to make things awkward. But then we started talking and hanging out after school, and…” Shaking his head, he tries to find the right words. There had been opportunities, many of them, for him to come clean and tell Junhui about the misunderstanding. But every time he opened his mouth, nothing would come out.

“I was afraid… I didn’t want you to go with some other guy. I wanted to keep you,” he finally blurts it out, watching intently as Junhui’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks turning a little warmer under Wonwoo’s palm. His own ears are turning hot, and he quickly drops his gaze. Which is a grave mistake because now he realizes how close Junhui’s perfectly plump and pink lips are to his own.

Tearing his attention away in order to process the words Junhui tells him proves difficult, but he prides himself in his self-control.

Junhui’s embarrassed, but with Wonwoo’s hand still cupping his face, he can’t turn away to hide as he admits, “I think… I think that part of me knew that it was a little too good to be true. We’ve barely talked to each other before, and it was always when Soonyoung or Jihoon was around. It didn’t make much sense for you to ask me out, especially to a school dance,” he laughs, a little sheepish. “But when I saw the note was signed JWW, I guess I got too excited and carried away.”

His blush is unmistakable now, and Wonwoo barely has the time to ready his nerves before Junhui confesses, “I’ve… I’ve liked you for a while now.” This time, when he smiles, it’s a little less strained, a little more genuine. But it’s nowhere near the brilliant smile that makes Wonwoo’s heart flutter.

Junhui starts playing with the button on Wonwoo’s sleeve as he says, “Despite the miscommunication, thank you for being so nice to me. You don’t have to take me to Homecoming, but I hope it won’t be too selfish to ask to hang out from time to time?” Junhui looks up at him with hopeful eyes, and it takes Wonwoo a second to realize this speech sounds too close to a breakup.

_We can’t break up! We haven’t even gone out for real yet!_

In his haze of panic, Wonwoo falls back on instincts. He tugs Junhui even closer by the waist and kisses him. There’s only a moment of initial shock, before Junhui melts against him, lips molding to his own.

He’s in heaven.

They taste and feel even better than he’d imagined.

As he angles the boy’s face to deepen the kiss, Wonwoo thinks he could spend the rest of his life kissing Wen Junhui and not have any regrets. He’ll sustain himself with the sweetness of his taste, quench his thirst by drinking in his beauty, and create music from the enticing moans and sighs Junhui makes for him.

It takes Junhui tugging at his collar and gasping into his mouth for Wonwoo to let go, trailing soft pecks along his jaw while he waits for Junhui to catch his breath.

“In case that wasn’t clear enough,” Wonwoo mouths against the skin of his throat, “I like you, too.”

Junhui giggles, arms tightening around his neck, and Wonwoo grins, catching lips once more.

He has no idea how long they stand there kissing each other, but out of nowhere, something cold and wet brings him back to the present. A rumble of thunder is all the warning they get, before the skies open and pours buckets of rain over their heads. Gasping, they spring apart, chests heaving and lips swollen. Everything is suddenly so loud: the spattering raindrops, the thunder, his heartbeat; it’s a little disorienting.

Still, he manages to find his common sense and grab Junhui’s hand. “Come on,” he yells above the storm, tugging him back the way they came. “We gotta move.”

Both are soaked to the bone by the time they make it through Wonwoo’s front door, water dripping everywhere.

Taking a single look at their ruined suits, Wonwoo mutters, “Well, I guess it’s a no for Homecoming.”

Junhui laughs, pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “There’s always next year,” he replies, a twinkle in his eyes.

The answering fond smile is automatic, and Wonwoo nods. “Yeah. Next year.”

To avoid getting sick, Wonwoo nudges Junhui to shower and goes to fetch him another set of clothes. He only stubs his toe once in his attempt to not stare at the frosted glass door when he slips in to put the clothes on the counter. Luckily, he manages to stifle the yelp of pain with a fist, so Junhui doesn’t witness his minute of shame.

When he returns from the guest bathroom after his own shower, he finds Junhui sitting on his bed, wrapped in his comforter. The sight makes him chuckle.

“Still cold?” He heads straight for his closet, looking to pull out two hoodies. Cutting through the sound of the hangers sliding across the metal bar are a set of feet padding toward him. It’s not long before a set of arms encircle his waist and a chin is propped over his shoulder. Wonwoo is so happy, he could burst.

Junhui burrows closer, glossy hair tickling his neck. “You’re warm.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s more distracting: the boy’s comfortable weight around him, the soft puffs of breath against his neck, or the fact that Junhui smells like his shampoo and shower gel. He’s surprised by the wave of primal satisfaction from the latter; he never knew he was the possessive type. At least, not until Junhui came into his life.

Finally finding the hoodie, he turns around and hands it to Junhui, whom promptly puts it on, covering the goosebumps dotting his bare arms.

“Thank you.”

He looks so soft and cute, skin flushed pink from the hot water, hair fluffy from the blowdryer. Wonwoo pecks his nose, and laughs in delight as Junhui flails, yanking the hood over his head.

“Surprise kisses aren’t allowed!” he whines, pulling the hood so low, it’s covering almost his entire face.

“Says who?” Wonwoo shrugs on his jacket and fixes his hair.

“Says me. Race you downstairs!” And with that, he zooms past Wonwoo, giggling like a little kid.

“Hey!” Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate to follow. In the midst of it, his eyes snap to the _JEON_ printed across the back of the hoodie, and he thinks letting Junhui run ahead isn’t such a bad thing after all.

They decide to order pizza and just watch a movie. While they wait for their food, Junhui goes to hang their wet clothes in the shower, and Wonwoo texts their friends to let them know they won’t go to the dance. He keeps the details to a minimum, not ready for their interrogation, instead deciding on sending a picture of Junhui sitting on his couch, browsing through the movie selection. He makes sure to take it from the back.

 

**Can’t Touch Me:**

(¬‿¬)

niiiiiiiiiiiice

 

**Aju Rice:**

i guess that’s one way of fixing things -_-

have fun!

 

**Tangerine Flavor:**

(・о・)

does this mean wonhui are a thing now?

OFFICIALLY?

 

**Freedom of Arts:**

ooooh!

watch Lilo & Stitch!!!

oh and congrats, man!

 

❀ **In Bloom** ❀:

that better be the only mark you put on him

picture day is next week

 

**Dad of the Year:**

is no one going to ask why junnie is wearing wonu’s clothes?

are you kids being responsible???

 

**Michael Chanson:**

awwwww

but u guys are gonna miss Hoshi getting crowned tonight

 

**The8thWonder:**

no prob

i got my camera ready

also just fyi we got a competition coming up

so pls don’t break jun’s hips

 

 **Fly to the** ☀ :

(∩´O`∩)

are u guys gonna have a dance battle?

play twister?

 

**Sunday Morning:**

_[sent a video: “She Will Be Love—Maroon 5 Lyrics Video”]_

seems fitting (^_<)b

 

**MC of Your Life:**

its kinda cute and a little sad that it took sushi for you to make a move

fish should be your honorary mascot from now on! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

 

 

Later on, once the whole pizza and pints of ice cream have disappeared in their tummies, the two finish up the movie. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, with Junhui lying on top of him, nestled between his legs. It’s quiet. The pitter patter of the rain adding texture to the music of the credits playing on screen.

He runs his fingers through Junhui’s brown hair, enjoying the way the strands glide between his fingers. Junhui hums contently and nuzzles closer, while he reaches for the remote to turn off the tv. They bask in each other’s company surrounded by the rain for a moment, Junhui humming a soft tune under his breath. The melody sounds a lot like what he sung to Wonwoo when he was sick, the thought making Wonwoo’s heart flutter pleasantly, and he hides his smile against the crown of Junhui’s hair.

Now that they’re together, he has the time to think back to their little confession, and he’s a little curious about something Junhui said.

“Hey, kitten?”

“Hm?” Lifting his head, he sets his chin on top of his folded arms across Wonwoo’s chest.

The latter spends a moment just admiring the beautiful boy in his arms, part of him still not believing he gets to call him his from now on. “You said something earlier.”

“I said a lot of things earlier,” he replies cheekily, giggling when Wonwoo rolls his eyes and pokes his ribs to make him squeak.

Smirking a little, Wonwoo asks, “When did you start liking me?”

A look of frightened embarrassment crosses his face, then he crumbles into his arms, whining for Wonwoo to forget he ever mentioned it.

“No way, I wanna know.”

Junhui remains hidden, but a soft prod against his calf by a socked foot and a “please?” gets him to peek.

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

Wonwoo nods. “Promise.”

Taking in a deep breath, he lays back on his arms, but his focus is used to draw invisible patterns on Wonwoo’s shirt. “Remember the talent show in 9th grade?”

 _Oh no_.

Cringing, he eyes him. “Are you serious?”

Junhui giggles, risking a glimpse at him, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, your dancing was really cool. And you were cute. Plus, Hoshi and Jihoonie talk a lot about you, and you were nominated for a lot of the year end’s awards.”

Hearing the affectionate tone of his voice when speaking about Wonwoo, the latter feels the tips of his ears grow hot. Still, he holds Junhui around the waist tighter and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. He can’t believe he wasted two years without getting to know this sweet boy properly.

He’s rocked them back and forth for a minute or so, before Junhui wonders, “When did _you_ start to like me?”

That’s an easy question, he thinks, as he smiles. “When I was sick and you brought me soup.”

“It was that good, huh?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, and Junhui laughs, poking his cheeks.

“It was your voice, dummy,” he says. “I like it. It’s sweet.”

“Yeah?” Junhui leans a little to the side to look at him, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “I thought everything about me was pretty.”

Wonwoo groans, but doesn’t deny it, and Junhui laughs into his neck, kissing the pulse point there.

Their quiet moment is interrupted by the dual chimes of their phones. Since he’s closer, Junhui grabs his and opens up the group chat. A wide and proud grin stretches across his lips as he shows Wonwoo. It’s a picture of their friends at Homecoming, with Soonyoung in the middle, wearing his crown and grinning from ear to ear, eyes completely disappearing.

 _Wish you were here!_ the caption reads.

Junhui coos and sends a quick reply to congratulate Soonyoung.

Once he sets his phone down and settles against Wonwoo again, the latter muses out loud, “You know, I feel kinda bad for your secret admirer. The poor guy probably poured out his heart to you in that love letter.”

“Mm.” Junhui seems reflective as he mulls it over, tugging on his bottom lip.

“What did he write anyway?”

“Lyrics. He’s probably a musician, too. They’re really good. I wonder how the whole song goes.”

Wonwoo huffs, hold tightening on instinct. He isn’t bitter that some unknown guy was able to get Junhui emotional with lyrics.

“It’s not a competition,” Junhui teases, smiling brightly. “Your lyrics are wonderful and very emotional, and I like them a lot.”

“I know,” he mutters. Just because he can, laces his hands behind the older’s back and keeps him pressed against his body.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui calls, very much amused.“I’ve had a crush on you since the 9th grade.” Lifting himself up, he leans in to kiss him, and Wonwoo reciprocates enthusiastically, winding his fingers into Junhui’s hair. When they pull away a fraction for breath, the dancer smiles sweetly. “You’ve already won, silly.”

As Wonwoo grins into the kiss and flips them over to squish Junhui under him, he can’t help thinking how true the statement is.

 

~✉~✉~✉~

 

Rummaging through Junhui’s desk drawer for his graphing calculator, the cork board hanging over the work area catches his attention. Wonwoo pauses his search to linger over the polaroids pinned there, ranging from silly poses with their friends to shots of the couple. One for each date they’ve been to since Homecoming. Warmth spreads through his chest as he smiles to himself, chuckling quietly at the picture of the two of them with frosting on their faces and cat ears on their heads.

He’s about to resume his search for the calculator when he notices the corner of a piece of paper, tucked under the many pictures, peeking out. Curious, he lifts the photo from last semester’s dance competition to see. It’s the love letter from Junhui’s secret admirer. Ever since the incident, this is the first time he's actually seeing it, and sure enough, the note is signed with his initials. He studies it some more.

While the handwriting isn’t his own, he knows who they belong to. The guy’s effort to mimic his strokes is admirable, but then again, he’s always had a knack for imitating Wonwoo. By the time he reads through the few lyrical lines of his own composition, he can’t help but shake his head in feigned exasperation. Now everything makes sense.

He snaps a picture and sends it off.

 

**Jeon Wonwoo**

_[sent a picture]_

Thanks, man

 

**Kwon Hoshi**

anytime

aren’t i the best cupid (^_<)～☆

 

 

“Wonwon, did you find it? I’m taking egg tarts out of the oven!”

He pockets his phone and grabs the calculator. “Coming, Junnie!”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

_I try to sincerely express myself but I can’t get it out_

_I try to wrap my head around this all night_

_But I can’t deliver my feelings_

 

_Will you let me be your Homecoming?_

 

_-JWW_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> D'awwww (´⌣`ʃƪ) Isn't Hoshi the best? MVP right here, best wingman award! WOOT WOOT! Totally deserves that Homecoming Crown too!
> 
> Figures Wonu throws a fit when the school caters sushi though lol. I admit that was borderline OOC/crack, but hey, he had good reasons, right? I know he only silently ate chestnuts on OFD while the rest had that seafood feast, but he wasn't trying to impress a date then. Plus, this is High School Wonu, soooo... my excuse for hormones going haywire a bit? *nervous laughter*
> 
> Lowkey PossessiveWoo/Bitterwoo though (¬‿¬) mwuahahahah
> 
> Jun and his collection of cat pics lol. I would not be surprised if it turns out he does take pictures of random cats he sees in the street and sends it to their GC hahaha.
> 
> *sigh* wonhui are such dorks, idek... but they're IN LOVE that's all that matters (๑>ᴗ<๑)
> 
> Anyway, I hope the silliness didn't disappoint. I am planning another chaptered fic (waaaaaay shorter than THOY, probably by half), but we'll see. Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> xoxoxo


End file.
